


A Cunning Act Of Kindness

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [21]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Nostalgia, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Rumple schemes to get what he wants and Belle benefits from it.<br/>TIMELINE: Set after "Numbers and Letters".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part of series BEHIND CLOSED DOORS and a fill to this prompt (http://rumbelleprompts.tumblr.com/post/90082568530/rumple-milah-neal-belle-tw-domestic)
> 
> I'm still taking prompts for this verse if anybody wants to send them.
> 
> I'm also doing a ASK MY CHARACTERS (http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/106018882167/ask-my-characters-a-question-and-they-shall).
> 
> A companion piece for this picspam (http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse).
> 
> Pairings for this verse: eventual Rumbelle and Swanfire.  
> Warnings for this verse: abusive relationship, implied non-con situations, child-abuse, violence, infidelity, very anti-Milah.
> 
> A HUGE THANKS to Maddie for betaing it so fast!

Within two weeks, Belle had nothing more to do in Storybrooke. Her father’s van had been transferred to Mr. Gold and all his things had already been sorted between three boxes Ruby had labeled “garbage”, “donations” and “keepers”. The following morning, maybe the day after, she could hand Mr. Gold the keys to the property and she would be free to go.

“What about the furniture and appliances?” Ruby asked, looking at what was left of Maurice’s possessions.

“Maybe Mr. Gold will want them,” Belle mused. “For the next tenant.”

“And you are  _sure_  you don’t want the next tenant to be you?”

 

Belle didn’t answer immediately. They had spent the last five days in her father’s apartment, cleaning up and selecting his possessions, but the emptier the place got, the more Belle couldn’t see herself living there again.

She felt even worse about the shop and spent as little time downstairs as she could. The two men who had worked for her father volunteered to work for her, if she so wished to keep the flower shop running. When she said she did not, they offered to clear the place themselves.

“It’s the very least Gus and I can do for  _Monsieur_  Moe’s daughter, _Mademoiselle_  Belle,” Jaq had said, in his heavy Montreal accent. “You just say what you need,  _oui_?”

Belle thought of dismissing them, but both looked like they needed that extra week of work themselves. Not so much for the money, but for closure. And, to be honest, Belle didn’t want to deal with the shop herself. The smell of dead plants made her cry every time she walked through to get to the apartment on the second floor.

“Yes,” Belle finally answered. “I am sure.”

“No one is going to think less of you if you come back, you know?” Ruby said.

“Yes, well,” Belle said, noncommittally, hoping that would kill the conversation.

“And if you  _want_  to come home, that is your business anyway-”

“Can you believe dad kept this?” Belle said, picking a book from the box labeled “keepers”.

“Belle,” Ruby tried, but her friend didn’t listen.

“Look at the state of it,” she said. “I’m very lucky he didn’t throw it away.”

Ruby huffed and puffed, but gave in and said, “Yes, very lucky.”

Belle turned the book in her hands. “I wonder if I can get it fixed.”

*

Stepping into Mr. Gold’s shop was like going back in time, because nothing seemed to have changed for the past eight years. Even the creepy marionettes that used to give her nightmares were still hanging in the window. But then again, Belle had always wondered if the pawnshop made him any real money, or if Ruby was right and it was only an eccentric hobby.

He was nowhere to be seen, so she called, “Mr. Gold?”

The answer came immediately, “I’m in the back.”

Belle had never been in the back of his shop before. Even when visiting with Baelfire, Mr. Gold had always been adamant that they stayed far away from his office. And now she could see why.

While everything in the front of the shop was neatly organized and put together, the back was almost chaotic. Random objects accumulated on the shelves, and almost everything seemed to be broken or faded. Within ten seconds, Belle had already spotted a dozen ways a child could get hurt, from the rusty set of sharp knives, to the broken glass on an old jewelery box.

Mr. Gold was currently bent over a magnifying glass, trying to fix a clock. Gears and nails were piled up on the table.

“Hey,” she said.

“Just a second,” he asked, and kept on working. His hands were steady and she had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed very complicated. For a full minute, they didn’t say a word. Then, with a shout of victory, he produced another nail from inside the clock and set it aside. He reached for his cane and got up. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to dig that out for the past hour. Hello, Ms. French.”

Belle shook his hand and looked at the clock. “What did that ever do to you?”

“Long story. But it will be ticking again in no time.” Mr. Gold realized he was still holding the pair of tweezers he had used to dig the nail out. He turned around and looked at his mess. He picked an empty teacup, dropped the keys inside and turned back to face her. “How have you been?”

Belle couldn’t resist a quip. “Are you sure you’ll find them again?”

He chuckled. “I know. It’s a disgrace. Bae says I need a maid, but I’m too possessive of my own mess.”

“You know best,” she said. “And to answer your question, I am better.”

Her answer was cautious, as if she had been pondering on that herself ever since the funeral.

Mr. Gold didn’t press for a better answer and asked, “Have you given any thought about your father’s property?”

“Yes, and I believe it’s best I give it back to you.”

“You decided to go back to Australia.”

Belle answered with a mournful sigh. “I can’t really see myself living there again.”

“I understand. Too many memories.”

“Yes. In part. I-” she started to explain, but stopped herself. He hadn’t asked her to pour her soul to him. He didn’t care to know that, more than nostalgia, that apartment filled her with defeat, as if her great adventure was over now and she had returned home with nothing to show for herself but a strained relationship with her father.

Her family home only made her think of pointless fights where she had claimed to know what she was doing, when, in fact, she had been only a twenty-year-old girl overwhelmed by grief for her mother who thought a change of scenery would be healing. In the end, her father had been right all along. Running to Sydney was not the answer. And now the prodigal daughter had no one to come back to.

“I just don’t want it,” she murmured.

“I understand,” he said.

Most people reacted to her grief claiming they understood, offering polite nods and smiles full of pity. But his tone was so sincere she actually wondered if he meant he knew what was truly going on inside her head, and that he too knew what it was like to fail.

Mr. Gold said, “Your rent is paid in full until the end of February, so you still have time. No need to rush.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And, if that was all, you could’ve called. No need to drop by. Not that I don’t appreciate a visit from an old friend.”

He smiled at her and Belle knew he was not reprimanding her for wasting his time.

She smiled back, but it was short lived.

“Unless you wanted anything else, my dear.”

Belle cleared her throat and pointed at the clock he had been fixing. “That seems like a very complicated thing to do.”

He looked over his shoulder, unperturbed by the sudden change in the subject. He shrugged. “Just a little. But I’ve done it before. This clock got to me in a worse shape than this and I put it back together.”

“And then you just got bored and threw it against a wall?”

He hesitated for a second and Belle feared she had somehow said the wrong thing and offended him with her jest. But in a second he was smiling again. “A man needs a hobby. It broke almost ten years ago and I never had the time to fix it. But now I have it, so I’m giving it a try.”

“That’s nice. Are clocks the only kind of thing you like fixing?”

“Engines, in general. Why?”

She took a book from her purse and passed it to him. It was an old volume, bound in blue leather that had seen better days and had detached itself completely from the paper. All 200 pages seemed to be there when he leafed through, but bookworms had eaten bits of it and, at some point, that book had clearly been dropped in water.

The titled was written in golden letters. He read it out loud. “ _A Handsome Hero_. Never read it before.”

“Mom used to read it to me every night when I was a child. It’s the story that made me fall in love with books. It’s about a maiden who sacrifices herself to an evil sorcerer in order to save her village. But on their way to his castle, they get lost and have adventures together. And as you’ll see…” She opened on a random page. “There are no pictures.”

“I like it already.” A wicked smirk got to his lips. “Is this the book that almost rendered young Gaston infertile?”

“Not  _infertile_. And he threw it in the mud first,” she said, defensive, and Mr. Gold smiled at the memory of her as a skinny ten-year-old he met once in the Principal’s office, in trouble for kicking the son of a councilman and starting a playground war. “But, yes, it is. That is why it looks so… like this.”

“I see.”

“So I was wondering, since you deal with antiques, and I noticed you have some old books at the front, and I don’t know if this is something you can do-”

“Yes?”

“Would you be able to restore it?”

“Uhn…” he said, looking it over once again. “I don’t think there’s much to be done for the bits the bookworms ate, but… I can fix the binder. Maybe do something about the yellow pages.”

“Thank you,” she said, sighing with relief.

“Do you already know when you’re leaving?”

“I was actually hoping to set a date as soon as you tell me when I can have it back.”

He evaluated the book a third time. “No more than two weeks. If you need it, I can do it in one.”

“And what would be your fee?”

He told her. “And for that I can give it top priority. You can pay when you come to pick it up. Does that work for you?”

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

He placed the book near the clock. “I’m just glad to see somebody in this town loves books. Everybody else seems so indifferent.”

“I’ve noticed the library was closed.”

“Yes,” he sighed, shaking his head. “For over a year now. Mrs. Hare retired and the Mayor couldn’t be bothered to find a replacement.”

“And nobody offered to take the job?”

“For what she’s paying? Very few. And they were all seriously underqualified, according to the Mayor. Honestly, I just think she wanted to redirect the funds somewhere else. Somewhere that grants her more votes.”

“That is such a pity. That used to be my favorite place in town.”

“Mine too.”

She eyed her watch. “I better get going. I have a ticket to buy.”

Belle shook his hand again and turned to leave. When she opened the front door, she heard him call her name over the chime of the bell. “Ms. French?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to see the library?” he said, from the curtain.

She frowned. “What?”

“I have the keys, if you have the time. For old times’ sake.”


	2. Chapter 2

Seeing more of town hadn’t helped Belle feel better in two weeks, and that particular piece of her past would probably cause her more pain than relief. Still, Mr. Gold’s proposal was hard to resist.

 

She followed him for a few blocks. Belle had asked if he would rather take the car, but he quickly dismissed the idea. “If you don’t mind, it’s good for my leg to exercise a little. And it’s not that far.”

Once they reached the library under the clock tower, he produced a key and opened the door.

“Is it yours as well?” she asked.

“What? Oh, no. It’s just a small favor from the Mayor. Don’t spread it, though.”

He held the door open for her. Belle took a deep breath and walked in, bracing herself for whatever was inside.

Before she could feel anything, she choked on the dust and the stale smell. Clearly the windows hadn’t been opened for months. But once her cough subdued, she looked around. The books were sitting on the shelves in random patterns and Belle knew Mrs. Hare hadn’t bothered to keep the catalog in order once she left. But other than that, the place looked exactly like it had eight years before.

She thought of her mother, who had taken her there to pick a book every Friday after school. Of her father, calling her his smart little princess and holding her up so she could choose a particularly large volume on the top shelves. Of Baelfire, drawing Rapunzel on a tower as she read him a fairytale. Of Mr. Gold, coming every week for a new book and asking her opinion on what he should read next.

Belle had been scared of coming in, but now she couldn’t remember why. She had been happy in that library. It was the place of her favorite childhood memories, as well as the place she started to find herself as a young woman.

“Is everything alright, my dear?”

Belle wiped away a tear. “Yes. Yes. It’s fine. Thank you.”

She took another step inside and looked at the front desk, where Mrs. Hare had sat all day, barking orders for her to follow. There were two books there. Not a speck of dust on them.

She narrowed her eyes and looked at Mr. Gold with suspicion.

He knew exactly what she wanted to ask. “Yes, I still borrow the books. But I always return them on time.”

Belle gave him a smile. “Your secret is safe with me. You used to live upstairs, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“I was so envious when Bae told me that. Having a library at your door. Did you have to cross it every day going to work?” she asked, and she couldn’t imagine a better way to start the day other than walking through a library.

“There is actually another way out.”

“But…?”

“But… yes. It would be a waste if I didn’t.”

“ _Such_  a waste,” she agreed. Then bit her lip. “Uhn, do you, by any chance, have the keys?”

“To the apartment?” he asked, unperturbed by her curiosity. “Of course. Would you like to see it?”

“I, well, I don’t want to bother you,” she said, but she could barely keep her excitement out of her voice.

“No bother at all,” he answered.

Belle was surprised at how at ease he seemed to be with her request. She knew he was a very busy man, with very little time to waste indulging the whims of a young woman. Yet, he guided her upstairs and opened the apartment door for her without so much as a, “Please, be quick.”

“Here we go,” he said as she walked in. “What do you think?”

Belle looked around. The space was completely empty, and even so, the room she was standing in was small. She could go from the living room to the kitchen in a few steps.

And yet, her eyes were filled with wonder.

“I always wanted to see this place,” she said, looking the happiest that Rumple had seen her in days.

“Really?”

“Really!” Belle rushed to the other side of the apartment and opened the bathroom door. “Bae was always bragging that he used to live in the clock tower.”

“As you see, not as glamorous,” he said, standing at the door and giving no indication he’d be coming in.

“No, it’s a charming place.” She gasped when she opened the bedroom door. “Look at these windows!”

The bedroom was right under the clock, with windows on three walls. There wasn’t much space, but she could see the entire town. It was a breathtaking view.

“I’m surprised it’s vacant,” she said.

“It’s not up for rent. Actually, it doesn’t belong to me.”

Belle threw him a look, as if she was ready to ask if they were breaking and entering, but curiosity got the best of her and she decided opening another door was a better use of her time.

“That’s actually a big closet.”

“That’s actually a ridiculously small room,” he corrected her.

“Really?” Belle laughed.

“Yes. It used to be Bae’s room when he was a babe.”

Belle looked inside again and tried to imagine it. The room was barely large enough to fit a crib in. As if to compensate for the other bedroom, this one had no windows at all.

“How did you change him?”

“On our bed. Or the kitchen table. Or on any available surface, really. He was almost four by the time we moved into a house.”

“Must have been nice. Although, this place is lovely.”

“Yes, it has its… charm, I suppose,” he said, looking around himself for the first time.

“Who does it belong to?”

“The town,” he said, fixating his eyes on her again. “I sold it years ago.”

“How come it’s empty?”

“It’s actually for the caretaker.”

“Caretaker?”

“Of the library.”

“Mrs. Hare didn’t live here.”

“No, she hated the place. Thought it was too small.”

Belle shook her head, silently judging Mrs. Hare’s taste. She started making her way back to him.

“Well, whoever gets the job is a lucky person, especially if they also get to live-” Belle stopped talking. There was  _something_  in the way he was looking at her, arching his eyebrows, holding his gaze. It was as if he waiting for her to make a connection. Didn’t take her long. Her conclusion was delivered matter-of-factly, “You want me to take over the library.”

Mr. Gold nodded his head once. “Yes.”

“Is this why you brought me upstairs?”

“No. This is why I brought you to the library in the first place,” he stated.

“That’s a bit cunning of you.”

He smiled unapologetically and said, “I can live with that.”

Belle crossed her arms and didn’t say another word.

“Are you mad?”

Belle thought about it before answering, “No. I’m not mad. But you seem to forget I’ll be going back to Sydney in two weeks.”

“Or you could stay.”

She stared at him.

“It is up to you, of course,” he said, quickly. “But I had the impression you were still making your mind and I thought I should show you what this town has to offer, in case you decide to give it a chance.”

Belle uncrossed her arms, looked around, paced a couple of steps, taking in the room. Though she tried not to, a very vivid image of her father’s couch on that living room filled her mind, followed by the old bookcase she could put in the bedroom. The bedroom with the breathtaking view. In her apartment above the library. Where she would work, just like when she was a teenager.

“What do you say, Ms. French?” he asked.

“Regardless of staying or not,” Belle answered, cautiously, “don’t I fall into the underqualified category?”

“No. You’ve worked in there before. You have a degree in English. You helped your uncle run a bookshop for eight years. You love books. You’re a single woman with no family to feed.” He shrugged. “You can easily run the library. Mrs. Hare’s qualifications were shushing people and drinking tea. That was it.”

“And what about Mayor Mills?”

“I care more about the library then she does. I’m sure it won’t take long to convince her. I really want to see that library running again. For an old friend, would you consider it?”

Belle thought about it. Asked, “As an old friend, do you think it would be good for me to stay?”

The question seemed to take him aback. He probably never thought she would value his opinion on the matter. After a moment of thought, he said, “I think you’re not totally convinced that Sydney is the best place for you to be right now. Am I correct?”

“Somewhat,” Belle said, trying to sound vague about the matter.

“In this case, I don’t think you  _have_  to leave town as soon as you can. If you were to, say, give it a few months, just to see what could happen, this town might surprise you.”

He made it sound like she had nothing to lose.

“What if it’s a pitiful mistake?” she replied, as if challenging him to prove her wrong.

“I’ll cover your expenses and pay for your ticket back to Australia. First class.”

Belle worried her bottom lip to prevent a smile from breaking free. She wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, but it was an interesting proposal.

She wanted it. She really wanted it. She had been happy working in that library. And that was as a volunteer. She couldn’t even imagine what it’d be like to do things  _her_  way. She always felt like the Mayor and Mrs. Hare wasted several opportunities to make that place live up to its potential.

Besides, the apartment was just above it, and it was just what she needed.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” he repeated, hopeful.

“If you convince Mayor Mills to hire me, I’ll take over the library.”

He smiled and offered her his hand. “Deal.”

She shook it. Hang on to it when he tried to pull it back.

“Just so I know,” Belle asked, “how little will she be paying me?”

“Oh, not that little. But, uhn, if I were you, I’d keep your father’s shop and find myself a tenant. A second source of income might come in handy.”

**Author's Note:**

> A list of all one-shots in verse chronological order can be found here: http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse


End file.
